


Link Share, Mark As Complete

by red_crate



Series: Gift Fics [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Meet-Cute, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: He can't believethisis how he ends up meeting his soul mate.





	Link Share, Mark As Complete

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleDetails87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDetails87/gifts).



> For LD who wanted any kind of meet-cute soul mate fic. I hope this makes your holidays bright and merry, babe.

Everything is done electronically these days, and Jackson is more okay with that. He prefers spending as little time dealing with losers as possible. Ordering his groceries and most of his clothes online, banking and paying with an app, and ignoring the world around him with a nice pair of wireless headphones is his ideal way of living life. He still has to go to classes though, and swimming practice. But Jackson got his parents to pay for a single bedroom apartment, and he doesn't have to share his space with some mouth breather obsessed with World of Warcraft or whatever.

So when he's assigned a group project in Econ with three other people, he's thankful for Google Drive. The T.A. already gathered and shared everyone's school emails, so he doesn't even have to talk to his partners in person. Thank God too, because it turns out that one of them is the guy who sits in the back of the room and always has some tangent he uses to distract the professor. He's loud enough that even in a classroom with eighty other people, Jackson recognizes him.

Jackson looks at the list of emails on his laptop and picks out the long string of unpronounceable letters as belonging to the guy. He spares a moment to feel bad for whatever unfortunate soul ends up with that guy's name on their skin.

Three days later—and they only had a week to begin with—Jackson wants to strangle Stiles.  _ Stiles _ . What kind of dumbass nickname is that, even if it's better than the one in his email address?

Stiles is worse than the girl who has yet to contribute a thing to their shared document beyond creating it. He's worse than the guy who keeps begging off because of work. No, Jackson could put up with partners who didn't want to do shit. What he can't stand is the fact that Stiles keeps adding unnecessary shit. And he leaves  _ comments _ . 

Stiles adds stuff that Jackson can use, but he leaves them in comments instead of in the actual body of the paper. Not all of his comments are about the subject either. Half of them are just stream-of-consciousness rambling. Miranda, the girl who hasn't actually added any meaningful research, keeps replying to those comments.

Jackson stares at the conversation they are currently having over cosmetics testing. Their paper isn't even about makeup or animals.

He signs out of Google and decides to go for a run so he can work off some of his anger.

Twenty minutes later, he's rounding the corner of the park pathway when he collides with someone else. Warm liquid splashes over his chest and seeps into the front of his new Under Armour shirt.

“What the fuck?” He yells, pulling at his shirt where it doesn't quite burn but definitely isn't comfortable.

For a second, he doesn't recognize the voice, isn't really paying attention to the rushed apology. The startled “oh shit” as a second pair of hands joining his to dab at the coffee stain with paper napkins makes him finally look up.

“Stiles?” Jackson gapes. How is this his life? He was just trying to get away from him on the laptop, and now here they are, face-to-face. He repeats himself. “What the fuck?”

Stiles isn't looking at him though, he's still got both hands pressed to Jackson's chest, and he's staring at them. “Oh  _ shit _ .”

He takes a step away from Stiles. Jackson isn't a fan of unnecessary contact, especially if it isn't going to get him laid. He frowns when goosebumps rush over his skin. Must be the change of temperature from the coffee soaking his shirt.

“Did I knock out your last remaining brain cell, spaz?” He snarks.

Stiles snaps out of it, glancing at his hands one more time. His cheeks are blotchy, and Jackson notices Stiles’ bottom lip is chapped and red. Why isn't he wearing a jacket over that dumb plaid shirt? And hasn't the guy ever heard of Chapstick?

“Gimme.” Stiles moves lightning quick, grabbing Jackson’s right hand and inspecting the back of it.

"Hey—” Jackson protests before he realizes what Stiles is looking at.

Before he left the apartment, his hand had been blank like it's been his entire life. Now, there's a long, familiar string of letters printed carefully over the back of his hand.

His stomach tilts, and his heart starts hammering in his chest.

Jackson grabs Stiles’ other hand, fingers curving around each other. There, unmistakably in his own handwriting, is Jackson's first name. The skin around both names is pink with newness, and when he experimentally runs his thumb over the letters both them shiver.

He can't believe  _ this  _ is how he ends up meeting his soul mate.

Jackson lets go of Stiles’ hand slowly and blinks several times. All his irritation and anger from earlier is gone, replaced with disbelief.

“Come on. I guess I could buy you another coffee.” He starts walking, confident Stiles will follow. He listens just to make sure though. “We should probably talk about it.”

Stiles has his phone out to text someone. “Uh, let me tell Miranda I need to postpone the shopping trip.”  

When Jackson looks over at him sharply, Stiles has a sly grin on his face. He winks at Jackson.

Jackson blushes for the first time since middle school. He glances away and mutters, “Tell her to do some actual work on our project.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In this universe, the name of your soul mate doesn't show up until you touch your soul mate. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on Tumblr](http://the-redcrate.tumblr.com)


End file.
